by Tchad Beale | June 19, 2014 12:33 PM
June 19th, 2014
The Rockford is filled with local makers and wonderful stories about how we’ve risen above the ashes of the late 70s and early 80s recession to prosper throughout the 2000’s recession. I am fortunate to have a valuable and underpaid staff at RKFDnews.
We are makers, official self-made noose breakers who don’t play by fucking rules. The rules written by men are filled with follies to be fooled with until you realize you are saved from being institutionalized into everyone else. Break that noose or hang in there–you’ll get it either way.
Thank you for your interests. Let me tell all of you a story about how RKFDnews began with nothing to become a big nothing in a poor American city called The Rockford. A place where poor people make stuff so that politicians, public charities, community leaders, developers and the very few 1% can funnel federal and state grants into their pockets from all of your hard work and time time spent making stuff in broad daylight.
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I used to be Mr. Chad Beale, a man who answered to scumbags, sales sluts and proud illiterate hillbillies on Burger King breakfast benders to end up laid off, fired or forced to quit more than a half dozen times after being passed over for countless promotions, overworked and underpaid jobs that went to proud, elitist, illiterate, corrupt and self-entitled American hillbillies.
I woke up unemployed for the last time in The Rockford of Illinois around 10 years ago last month–having answered to a man named after a dog, Sparky–and decided to become Chief Tchad Beale. Along the way a tribe of Pizza Warriors gathered round the The Rockford chair with me to stare at The Rockford rope and we laughed over a few pizzas from Capri Restaurant.
Mr. Toncha was onto something. We immediately stopped eating the pizza.
“The Rockford of Illinois, a place were you can be anyone,” said Gilbert Grebner. We laughed.
“Why not be noose breakers?”, said Jay Vannigan to Theodore Lepolli, Ron Kites and myself. We stopped laughing and began thinking about the future of nothing in The Rockford and there it happened, together with the pizza.
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We gathered a few more times to eat more pizza and discuss how to go about giving poor people who still enjoy reading the options to break their own noose for free or not to. I t was decided early on that pushing the buttons of an entire region with truths rewritten to be The Rockford lies we all desire to wake up to was more important than making The Rockford monies.
My entire staff had learned over the last 20-30 years of being someone else’s bitch and/or master slave that there’s not a healthy cash flow in our community that hasn’t been tampered and polluted with by state and federal grants. We prefer to call the local cash flow that does exists “middle class blood money.” A middle class that’s now massacred by the same nepotistic scumbags and elitist hillbillies mentioned above.
Taking tips from our career counselor and life coach–a regional CEO and LORD of ALL in the YOU$A™–Lord Thomas Derby of Derby | Reynolds, Schaumburg, Illinois–we thought: “Why can’t we break The Rockford’s noose by turning their celebrated mediocrity and misery into insanity to break their grip on life, to save them from their own fat pride?”
“That’s right,” said our Lord and CEO of ALL to our staff at a Friday Funday lunch meeting he conducted for us with his staff at Chili’s.
[4]Lord Derby’s executive staff offered us a business plan and a few pitchers of margaritas with babayback BBQ ribs to abide by when we started out with nothing.
Doing anything that was void of meddling with city officials and business leaders in one of the poorest regions of America, The Rockford, requires successful leadership from Schaumburg area business professionals we discovered at the Chilis in The Rockford on E. State Street in 2012.
When the reality of being in The Rockford gets too heavy, we laugh and laugh and laugh until all of those civic pride ideas like “misery needs drunk and unemployed company,” and “our city your fault” or “transform the rockford feelings” are washed away along with the amateurs, scumbags and sales sluts. For that is the real, original and exceptional The Rockford that all of you have become comfortable with accepting. However, the truth is that most of you are like The Rockford amateurs mentioned above, you are amateur failures.
In closing, I leave you with a poem I wrote about The Rockford.
Keep your helmets on, ropes ready and chairs steady.
For I am not Chad, I am your Chief,
Tchad Beale
Editor
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